Ichiro's POV.
The streets buzzed with the excitement of summer's arrival. Exams were over, the weight of textbooks and late-night cramming finally lifted. For once, the air didn't smell like stress and anxiety—it smelled like freedom. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, adjusting my tie, which I hadn't bothered to loosen after leaving the campus. Beside me, Tohru strutted like he owned the world, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.
"Darling, if you're going to insist on wearing that school uniform in public, at least try not to look so boring," Tohru teased, flicking my green tie with a flourish. He wore his signature pastel pink sweater, cropped just above his waist, paired with tight jeans that hugged his slim frame. His silver hoop earrings caught the sunlight, making him seem even more radiant.
"Tohru, I don't have the energy for your fashion critiques today," I replied, smirking. "But thanks for tagging along. You're like my personal shopping consultant."
"You mean your boyfriend," he corrected with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "Honestly, Ichiro, how long are you going to keep pretending I'm just here for fun?"
I chuckled, shaking my head. Tohru always had a way of twisting every situation into a scene straight out of a romantic comedy—our "relationship" included. The truth was, we'd been childhood sweethearts once, back when we didn't know the difference between holding hands and holding promises. Tohru confessed to me on the swings at the park, his cheeks flushed, his lips trembling. It was sweet. Innocent. But that was years ago.
"You know we're not actually—" I started, but he interrupted, placing a manicured finger over my lips.
"Shh, shh, shh. Don't ruin my delusions, babe." He winked, turning his attention to the nearest boutique window.
The shop was vibrant, full of bright-colored clothes that screamed look at me! It was exactly Tohru's style. "Let's go in," he said, tugging on my sleeve before I could protest.
The store was buzzing with girls, most of them hovering near the accessories section. A few glanced my way, giggling behind their hands. I wasn't blind to it—girls liked me, sometimes a little too much. But that was the problem. The more someone liked me, the less interested I became. Where was the challenge? Where was the fun?
I waved awkwardly at the girls, who squealed and ducked behind a rack of handbags. "Still got it," I muttered, grinning to myself.
"Ugh, don't flatter yourself," Tohru groaned, flipping through a rack of blazers. "You're insufferable enough without the fangirls inflating your ego."
"You're just jealous they're not looking at you," I shot back, earning a playful slap on the arm.
"Please, honey, I'm too fabulous for them. But seriously, Ichiro, you've got to stop flirting with everyone. It's exhausting to watch."
"It's not my fault they come to me," I said, shrugging. "You know me, Tohru. I like the ones who don't like me. Keeps life interesting."
Tohru rolled his eyes again but didn't say anything. His silence was rare, and I almost commented on it, but then his face lit up as he pulled a blazer off the rack. It was a deep maroon with gold accents—a little flashy for my taste, but it suited Tohru's dramatic flair perfectly.
"Try this on," he demanded, holding it out to me.
"No way," I said, laughing. "That's your style, not mine."
"I wasn't asking," he said, shoving it into my hands.
Minutes later, I was standing in front of a mirror, reluctantly modeling the blazer. Tohru stood behind me, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.
"Admit it. You look hot," he said.
"I look like I'm about to join a boy band," I countered, but even I had to admit it didn't look half bad.
"See? This is why you keep me around," Tohru said, smirking.
I turned to face him, and for a moment, the teasing glint in his eyes softened. It was rare to see him drop his guard, but when he did, it reminded me of the Tohru I used to know—the one who confessed to me on that swing set, the one who looked at me like I was the only person in the world.
"Tohru…" I started, unsure of what I wanted to say.
"Don't," he interrupted, his voice quieter now. "Don't say it."
We stood there in silence for a moment before the sound of breaking glass shattered whatever tension hung between us.
———
It was chaos. Screams erupted from the streets outside, followed by a deafening roar that made my ears ring. I turned toward the window just in time to see a crowd of people sprinting past, their faces pale with terror.
"What the hell—" I started, but then I saw it.
A gas line had exploded down the street, sending plumes of smoke and fire into the air. The force of the blast had shattered windows all around us, and the ground shook beneath my feet.
"Get down!" I yelled, grabbing Tohru and pulling him to the floor just as another explosion rocked the street.
Debris rained down around us, and the shop's ceiling groaned under the strain. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked around, searching for an escape.
"We need to get out of here," I said, helping Tohru to his feet.
The store was a mess, shelves toppled over and glass littering the floor. We stumbled toward the exit, but the smoke outside was thick, making it hard to see.
"Over here!" Tohru shouted, pulling me toward a side alley.
We ran, coughing and stumbling as the smoke burned our lungs. The heat was suffocating, and I could feel the sweat dripping down my face.
"We're almost there," I said, though I wasn't sure where "there" was. Anywhere but here, I thought.
But fate had other plans.
---
The building next to us groaned loudly, its structure weakened by the blast. I looked up just in time to see the walls start to collapse.
"TOHRU!" I shouted, shoving him forward as the debris came crashing down.
Pain shot through my body as something heavy slammed into me, pinning me to the ground. I could barely breathe, the weight crushing my chest. I could hear Tohru screaming my name, but his voice sounded distant, like it was coming from the end of a tunnel.
I tried to move, to reach for him, but my body wouldn't respond. The edges of my vision blurred, and for the first time in a long time, I felt… afraid.
"Tohru…" I whispered, the sound barely escaping my lips.
And then, everything went black.
——————————————————
Satoru's POV.
Exams were finally over, and campus felt quieter than usual, like the calm after a storm. I found myself lingering in the library, where the faint smell of old books mixed with the distant hum of conversation. It was my favorite place on campus—not because I was some sort of bookworm, but because it felt like a sanctuary from the chaotic energy of people like Ichiro.
I adjusted my glasses and glanced at my phone. A group chat with Ichiro was filled with his usual nonsense, pictures of him trying on ridiculous outfits, probably courtesy of Tohru. Typical.
I sighed, setting my phone down. "Of course he's having fun while I'm stuck with—"
"Hey, Satoru, you still alive over there?"
I looked up to see Shizuku peeking at me from over her laptop. Her emerald green eyes were sharp but warm, even as her fingers flew across the keyboard, likely working on some secret culinary project. She always had this weird habit of typing aggressively, like she was challenging her computer to a duel.
"Barely," I replied. "And you?"
"Same," she said, blowing a strand of light brown hair out of her face. "Yoshitake's been staring at his notes for so long I think he's about to ascend to another plane of existence."
I turned my head to see Yoshitake at the far end of the table, his orange-brown hair falling over his face as he scribbled furiously in his notebook. He didn't even acknowledge us.
"Yoshitake," I called out, smirking. "You're not going to graduate if you set your brain on fire."
Without looking up, he replied, "That's exactly why I need to finish this. Unlike you two, I actually care about the future."
Shizuku laughed softly. "Right. Because the rest of us are just coasting through life."
We stayed there for a while, the three of us falling into a comfortable rhythm of quiet conversation and work. It was moments like these that I appreciated most—calm, predictable, safe. The polar opposite of Ichiro's energy.
But of course, the universe couldn't let things stay that way.
The first explosion was distant, just a muffled thud that made the windows tremble. Shizuku froze mid-typing, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.
"What was that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before I could answer, a second explosion rocked the building. This one was closer, loud enough to make my ears ring. The lights flickered, and the ground shook beneath us.
"Satoru, we need to go," Yoshitake said, already standing and grabbing his bag. His voice was calm, but his movements were quick and deliberate.
I grabbed Shizuku's arm, pulling her to her feet. "Come on," I said. "Let's move."
The three of us rushed toward the exit, joining a growing crowd of panicked students. The hallway was chaos—people screaming, shoving, tripping over each other in their desperation to get outside.
When we finally made it to the courtyard, the scene was worse than I could have imagined. Smoke billowed into the sky, and the sound of sirens mixed with the distant roar of fire. People were scattered everywhere, some crying, others trying to help the injured.
"What's going on?" Shizuku asked, her voice trembling.
"I don't know," I said, scanning the area. "But we can't stay here."
"This way," Yoshitake said, leading us toward a side street that looked relatively clear. His calm under pressure was almost unnerving, but I wasn't about to question it.
We moved quickly, trying to stay low and avoid drawing attention to ourselves. Shizuku clung to my arm, her usual confidence replaced by a wide-eyed fear that made my chest tighten.
"It's going to be okay," I told her, though I wasn't sure if I believed it myself.
As we turned a corner, another explosion erupted behind us, the force of it sending us stumbling forward. I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me.
"Satoru!" Shizuku screamed, scrambling to help me up.
"I'm fine," I gasped, though my head was spinning. "Yoshitake?"
"I'm here," he said, pulling us both to our feet. "We need to keep moving."
We stumbled into an alley, the narrow space offering a brief reprieve from the chaos. But as we caught our breath, a loud creak echoed above us.
Yoshitake's head snapped up. "The building—it's coming down!"
I looked up to see the walls swaying, cracks spreading like veins through the concrete. Time seemed to slow as the structure groaned, the weight of it threatening to collapse.
"Run!" Yoshitake shouted, pushing Shizuku forward.
We bolted, but the alley was too narrow, the debris falling too fast. A chunk of concrete crashed in front of us, cutting off our path.
"No!" Shizuku cried, turning back toward me.
There was no time to think, no time to plan. I reached for her, trying to pull her to safety, but another piece of debris fell, slamming into the ground between us.
The last thing I saw was Yoshitake, standing just a few feet away, his face pale but resolute. He didn't run. Instead, he lunged toward me, shoving me out of the way just as the building gave way completely.
The world went silent. No screams, no sirens—just the deafening roar of the collapse and the sudden, crushing weight that followed.
And then, darkness.